I love to look.
Television. The internet. You can view anything. Nothing is left to the imagination.
But what really does it for me is reality. Observing the world through a window, not a screen. Peering through half-closed blinds at my own personal soap.
I know all the cast. Intimately. All their comings and goings. All their secrets. I know the lot.
Just like God.
I thought I understood the plot. Could second guess each twist and turn.
Maybe not.
Today, shifting my curtains, what do you think I could see?
A woman, at her window, staring back at me.
Television. The internet. You can view anything. Nothing is left to the imagination.
But what really does it for me is reality. Observing the world through a window, not a screen. Peering through half-closed blinds at my own personal soap.
I know all the cast. Intimately. All their comings and goings. All their secrets. I know the lot.
Just like God.
I thought I understood the plot. Could second guess each twist and turn.
Maybe not.
Today, shifting my curtains, what do you think I could see?
A woman, at her window, staring back at me.
